


Yellow Sky

by Mimaki



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Abuse, Angst, F/F, F/M, Foster son Alex, High School, Historically Inaccurate, Hurt/Comfort, Illness, LGBTQ+ characters, Lams - Freeform, M/M, Modern AU, OOC, PTSD, Panic Attacks, Rape, Trauma, Washingdad, adopted son Lafayette, medical discussions, mullette
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:35:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 19,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23963212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mimaki/pseuds/Mimaki
Summary: Alexander Hamilton has been through the ringer when George and Martha Washington decide to foster him. Will the traumatised boy ever learn to trust them? And how will he deal with high school and all the hardships that come with it? And what if the past catches up with you... in every way possible?
Relationships: Alexander Hamilton/John Laurens, George Washington/Martha Washington, Gilbert du Motier Marquis de Lafayette/Hercules Mulligan
Comments: 56
Kudos: 141





	1. Waiting in the wings for you

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfic here! I hope it entertains some people. This work is based on the characters in Lin-Manuel Miranda's musical Hamilton. I own nothing of that musical. I also do not claim I'm writing a historically accurate work. I simply looked at the characters and saw a story there, then proceeded to bend and mold everything to my will. I am also Dutch, so please excuse any mistakes in my English.

“This is completely out of bounds. You have to pick him up right now. We are not having him here anymore.” Alex had known this was coming, but the words didn’t sting any less. Another home gone… He was sitting on his bed, listening to his foster mother’s phone conversation. He had been in the foster system for a long time, but not many parents were willing to keep him for long. He knew, of course, that he did not necessarily tend to help things along, but really, why should he? He didn’t want to stay in this house, but he had hoped that mr. Reynolds, his foster father, would have been the one to make the call. What saddened him was that mrs. Reynolds didn’t want him anymore. She had been nice. _Seemed nice_ , Alex corrected himself. Because it hadn’t held up. It never did. He resigned himself to packing what little stuff he owned into a backpack while trying not to think about anything.

-

“Alexander Hamilton?” A curiously musical voice called out to him. Not his case worker, then. After his removal from the Reynolds household for “making improper speculations”, or as he liked to call it “voicing reasonable concern that should’ve been looked into”, Alex had been put back into the orphanage, the summer days blending together like watercolour paint, so much so that Alex hadn’t even remembered what day of the week it was. The boy had to take a moment to laugh at himself a bit. He had been worried about the appointment with a couple that was interested in him for the whole week he had known about it, and still he had forgotten. _The human mind is truly, amazingly useless sometimes_ , it seemed to him. After his moment of humour, though, dread crept up towards his throat again, threatening to squeeze it shut if he didn’t stop it right that moment. _One of the most popular Hermione Granger quotes is “it’s leviOsa, not levioSAR”. The book version of this quote is “it’s winGARdium leviOsa, make the GAR nice and long”._ The facts calmed his nerves a bit and he managed a “yes?”. Some noise in the hallway, then “Hamilton, come out here, will you?”. That was his case worker, mr. Burr. So he was supposed to meet them right there and then. _Fine_ , he thought, ignoring the chorus of _not fine not fine not fine_ that was ringing in his head and ears. He was meeting this family. He needed to put his defences up. _Classical Latin doesn’t use the locative much anymore, mainly reserving it for set expressions and words_. He breathed through the panic, strengthened by the calming certainty of facts. He felt his face harden like armour and shield, his arms buzzing and ready like a sword, a soldier getting dressed for battle. He was ready.

-

Alexander had been expecting the adults there, but as soon as he entered the coffee room where he was supposed to meet this family, he also saw.. a boy? _Wait, this doesn’t make sense. They have a kid. Why are they even here?_ “…very experienced, as you can see. They are somewhat of a last hope, kid.” Alex realised Burr had been talking to him. _Wake the fuck up Hamilton. Inattention is unsafe._ With this sharp reminder in the back of his mind, he decided it would be bad to ask what had been said, choosing attack and finding things out as he went as methods of operation instead. “So? They either want me or not. I can’t change shit about that.” _Good. Keep them at arm’s length_. Aaron Burr made a displeased noise, but decided not to indulge the boy’s warlike tactics with a response. “Mr. and mrs. Washington and their son would like to ask you a few questions in private. I’ll be in the other room if anyone needs me. If not, I’ll be back in half an hour either way.” Alex hardly had any time to feel indignant about how easily he was left alone at the mercy of people who might very well be _god damned predators_ because the boy caught his attention again when he began to speak in a lightly accented voice. “Hello Alexander. I am Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier de Lafayette, but you can call me Lafayette or Laf. Everyone does. I am the Washingtons’ adopted son, which obviously means I was simply too fabulous to pass up for them.” A smirk graced his lips. Alex stared rather blankly. What on earth was he supposed to say to that? After a short silence, he settled on “it’s Alex, actually. No one calls me by my full name, either, though it wouldn’t be as much of a problem to do so as it would with your name.” He had meant this as a snark, a way to keep the boy at bay, but somehow, his smirk only widened. “Oui, the French can be extravagant that way. I like your wit, Alex. But we’ll see if it can match mine.” Alex’s eyes grew wide. Surely, Lafayette hadn’t just said that? Did the boy think he was uneducated and knew no French? Shit, he had to shoot back quickly. _Don’t lose the first battle Alex, you’ll never live that down_ , his mind supplied, unhelpful. “I wouldn’t dare say I match your wit, Lafayette, because that would be an insult to me. I know I far outwit you.” _Now I have him_. But the boy let out a delighted squeal, turning to the adult man in the room. “Dad, can we keep him?” This took Alexander so very aback that he actually sat down in the chair meant for him in shock. The man sighed and answered, “who knows, Lafayette? I don’t know what you were talking about.” _Mr. Washington knows no French, then. Maybe that is why Lafayette expected me not to know it, either_. “Can we ask you some questions in English, son?” His tone was nice enough, but the attempt to get too close too soon was laughably transparent. “I’m not your son,” mr. Washington’s face fell a bit at this, making Alex feel both guilty and victorious at once, “but questions in English, French or Spanish are fine. Can’t promise you’ll like what you hear, though.” This got a small smile from mr. Washington. “That’s fair enough. Allow me to introduce us. I am George Washington, you can call me George. This smart-ass is Lafayette, as you know by now, our son. And this lovely lady is Martha Washington, my wife.” Alex bit back the response ready on his tongue about how these were not questions when he saw George’s loving look at his wife. In that exact moment, he looked so genuine and caring. _Like my mom_ , Alex realised with a pang to his heart. He heard a vague, melodious voice in the background, but he didn’t register any of the words as his breath quickened and _oh god oh god oh no no not this not now I need to be in shape I can’t show weakness I_ -a room came into his mind, not the one he was sitting in at the moment, but a room with a bed and he was in it with her- _she’s not here it’s not real I’m talking to people I need to get it together this is not real_. He felt a hand on his shoulder. _A doctor? He has to help my mom… she needs help…_ Alex didn’t notice the footsteps in the hallway, the frantic whispers around him, or the way a scream made its way out of his mouth.


	2. who is this kid, what's he gonna do?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Washingtons have to make a decision that will change their life and that doesn't come easy to one of them in particular.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is probably kinda vague at times because I was setting up a lot of plot points, but it will become clearer, I promise!

_This man is not a good doctor. No matter what I say, he won’t help my mom. And where has she gone, anyway? She was just here… people are talking, but I don’t think they’re even talking about her. But I do know this voice, this face… why is my caseworker here? He shouldn’t be here, it’s not safe, he’s not a doctor. And who are these other people? Don’t they know I’m contagious? Or are they all doctors? But there’s no protective equipment… this is all wrong. Why do I have a caseworker if I’m with my mother? But she’s not here… so where is she?_ Alexander’s mind was working at a million miles an hour, trying to make sense of the present while trapped in the past. Something had happened, but he couldn’t quite figure out what or when or who he was. Then, someone offered him something cold, pushing it into his mouth. The sensation of the ice cube melting made his mind slow down, allowing him to think more clearly. He was in the coffee room, he realised, and something had reminded him of his mother. He swallowed as he pushed away the memory threatening to overtake him once again. _I am in the coffee room of the orphanage because my mother is already dead and a family has shown interest in me_. His mind was still running slightly rampant, but was becoming coherent enough to force some facts upon himself. _It is customary to bow to each other in a wizard duel. When Harry refuses to bow to Voldemort in their duel at the graveyard, Voldemort forces him by magic._ The fact grounded him enough to become more aware of his surroundings. He was sitting on the floor, crouched down in a corner, shaking. Painfully aware of how weak he looked, he got up immediately, his head spinning slightly with the sudden movement. _Turn it into a joke or everyone will see how weak I am,_ his head demanded. “Well, now you definitely don’t want me, so I’ll just go drown myself in the shower, thanks.” _What the fuck was that? That’s not even funny._ Alex blushed and turned to walk out of the room, tears gathering in his eyes, when- “you might not think much of yourself, dear, but don’t think for a second that I don’t recognise how you were just fighting a battle with yourself. You are like a little lion, growling not only at us but at yourself. Me, I am more like a guard dog, barking and biting as I see fit. You are, how you say… more magnificent to me than ever, dear. Almost at my level already, yes? Do not fret, little lion.” This made Alex stop in his tracks and blink a few times. When he was sure the tears were gone, he turned around to face Lafayette, who had spoken the kind words, and the Washingtons, who were eyeing him with annoying but sweet concern. A thick silence hang in the air. Everyone seemed to be waiting for Alex to speak, but the boy was starting to feel exhausted from his flashback. Martha appeared to notice this, because she said, “George dear, I think we’d better come back another time and allow the poor boy some rest. Would that be possible, mr. Burr?” Alex let out a slight huff at being called a poor boy, but didn’t have the energy to argue anymore. He tuned out the voices around him and walked out of the room without awaiting Burrs answer, ignoring the nagging _inattention is unsafe_ at the back of his mind.   
-  
Alexander hadn’t been completely serious about wanting to drown himself in the shower, but the thought became more and more tempting as he stepped into the shower to attempt to wash the episode off of him. He knew, of course, that this wouldn’t work. During his time at the Reynolds, the boy had taken more than his fair share of showers right after encounters with mr. Reynolds, all intended to wash away more than the sweat and grime on his body. They never did. Still, he had to do something to calm his mind, because he was exhausted and wanted to sleep, but his mind wouldn’t shut up. After about ten minutes in the shower, he gave up on this course of action and decided he needed to write about this instead. He sighed. Although he liked writing a lot, it was never his go-to way to calm down anymore. He missed the days when he felt secure enough in his privacy to write anything and everything down, but ever since it had been violated at the Reynolds, he couldn’t feel the same anymore. The look in mrs. Reynolds’s eyes when she read what he had written about her husband was not one he would easily forget. Nor would he forget the road of consequences it had whirled him on. He was still riding that very road. _But I have to write about this. I will make sure to write in Spanish and French only and to keep the book well-hidden._  
-  
After about an hour of writing, Alex could feel his mind settling a bit and shoved the book and pen under his mattress before allowing his eyes to slide shut and sleep to take him.   
-  
“Mama, papa, surely you have seen the tragedy in his eyes? His roar is for self-protection, not for harm!” Lafayette was sitting in the backseat of his parents’ car, eyes fixed on the backs of their heads. His voice sounded slightly whiny, like he’d just been told off for the first time in his life. He hadn’t, of course, but he still couldn’t keep the note of childish begging out of his voice. This was something he really, really wanted to get through to his parents, so much so that his normal confident banter had wavered a bit. His mother, _thankfully_ , was quick to agree. “I see it the same way, Georgie dear. That boy has tragedy written all over his demeanour in a way I haven’t seen before. And really,” she added, after a slight smile, “it would not do our darling son any bad to be outwitted from time to time.” Martha had not understood what the boys had been talking about as she didn’t speak any French, but the way Lafayettes eyes had lit up with passion and delight when they spoke told her all she needed to know. George clenched his fists slightly tighter around the steering wheel and huffed annoyedly. “You think I don’t know any of those things? But it’s not just about us wanting him, Martha. And it’s not just about satisfying your damned wit, Lafayette. This is a real boy with a real life, real emotions… are we the best fit for him? Is that really what you’re trying to tell me? Because I don’t believe it. I don’t even believe he likes us.” Lafayettes eyes had gone wider and wider while his father spoke. “Papa, you don’t mean that. I am not using him as a toy for my wit! I had a connection with Alex. And so did you. I know you felt it, but you are scared of it! You had expected him to be different, oui? And now that he is the way he is, you’re not sure how he would fit into our life anymore, so you are in denial of your own emotions.” Lafayette sat back defiantly, watching his father eagerly for any type of reply. None came as the car engine rumbled on softly. Then, suddenly- “And what if I am scared, son? Am I not allowed to want to protect my family? What if he hurts you or Martha with those insults of him? Yes,” George drummed his fingers on the wheel a bit before continuing, “I had expected it to go differently. This could be very difficult, Laf. And I don’t know if we are the best people to deal with that.” _Most of all_ , he thought to himself, _I don’t know if I am a good enough father to deal with any of it._  
\-   
When Martha and George were getting ready for bed that night, George thought he was done with conversations about the orphan boy for the day. Martha, however, had a different idea, because just as he was about to turn their nightlights off, she said, “I know why this scares you, George. But this isn’t like it was with Lafayette in the beginning. You are already a father, it will not be as new. Even with the kid’s added problems. But if your anxiety attacks do come back, we can always go back to that doctor. This boy needs us, Georgie. Please think about it.” George turned over and turned his light off, pretending not to have heard and to be asleep.


	3. my chance to socially advance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> decisions are made!

A week went by and Martha didn’t mention the boy to George. She knew he had heard her that night and if he didn’t want to acknowledge that, it was because he wasn’t ready. Lafayette, too, held his tongue, knowing that his father would have to be the one to bring it up next if they were to have any chance of welcoming Alex into their family. Not pushing was not Lafayettes strong suit, however. His defiance and impatience showed through in all of his actions. George noticed this and it broke his heart that he was making his boy unhappy, but he needed time. And anyway, he also knew all too well that part of his son’s annoyance was rooted in the blow his ego had taken when he had failed to win the argument immediately. His boy was sweet and energetic and funny, but that ego of his could swell a bit out of proportion at times. At the breakfast table, Lafayette was scraping his fork through his scrambled eggs slightly too aggressively and Martha kept glancing over at George hopefully for a few seconds before returning her eyes to her toast. George let out a deep breath over his cup of coffee. _I need time because I don’t want to hurt myself or my family, but that need still seems to hurt everyone and everything. They are leaving me alone though, at least verbally, for now._ This thought made him feel a pang of guilt. _So that is my first priority as a father now, being left alone? This is ridiculous. This is how I treat staff, not family. And I’m also keeping that poor orphan waiting. What if the kid thinks he’s done something wrong? It is not his fault that I came in with expectations. But even so… I still need time._  
-  
The day after the visit, Alexander had been too drained to think about it much. He spent most of the day drifting in and out of sleep, or forcing himself to drink water. He always felt sick the day after major attacks. As the week progressed, however, Alex came to mull the visit over more and more, with only the grey walls of his bedroom as a distraction for most of the time. He hadn’t heard of the family anymore, which made sense since he had freaked out. _But then why can’t I just move on?_ _The family didn’t want me, they were never going to want me and that’s fine fine fine. I shouldn’t have let that damned Lafayette speak to me in French_. It had been too intimate, just the two of them for a moment, the rest unable to understand. _I can’t let someone come close like that. It’s not safe. I’ll not let it happen again, if another family ever shows interest in me. I’m better off alone._  
 _-_  
The next breakfast was panning out to be much the same. Laf scraped. Martha glanced. George huffed. The tension built to an almost insufferable level. Then, after a few seconds of this- “Listen. I know you’re waiting for me to make some sort of a decision, but you’re putting me in a tough spot here. I need time, but everything about you guys makes it clear that my silence is hurting you. We make decisions as a family, so let’s talk about this.” If George had hoped to alleviate some of the tension in the room, he hadn’t gotten what he wanted, because at his words, the dam broke. Lafayettes strong words (with some even stronger ones in French weaved through) poured into the room as a rainstorm, starkly contrasting with the bright walls, as he went on and on about the boy that he had already nicknamed his little lion. At the same time, Martha’s melodious mothering drifted through the room like a breeze. Her concern filled every nook and cranny, every corner where dust had been before, radiant and sweet, yet pressing and urgent at the same time. Although it was hard to make out every word of the two passionately speaking people at the same time, the overall message was clear and it came to George just like that; _whatever my doubts may be, the boy is already a part of this family._ And a decision was made. 

\-   
When Burr delivered the good news to Alex, the boy, despite himself, felt about ready to jump for joy. He tried his hardest to conceal this from Burr, for some feeling of shame that he didn’t even fully understand himself. Maybe the family thought he was a freak, but they were willing to give him a chance. He would, if nothing else, be in a better environment to run away if things went to shit. _This time I’m making something of myself, even if that means leaving._ That would always feel like an option to Alex. And so he began to pack again.   
\-   
Martha was behind the wheel this time, her husband beside her as they drove to pick up the newest addition to their household. Their excited son was seated in the back, completely himself again after the talk they’d had as a family at breakfast the day before. George had finally relented. Martha chuckled to herself softly. She’d known this would happen. The bond was there and her husband would never turn away from that. They’d only had a brief conversation with Alex last time, but it’d been enough. But she also understood why it had taken him this long. When they had first adopted Lafayette, it was the first try at parenthood for the both of them. They’d never wanted biological children, so the fact that Martha had no womb to carry them in was not even what led them to adoption, nor was the fact that George wanted no part in sex at all. No, it had been the simple yet deep feeling that they had always shared: the right child was already out there for them, waiting to be found, not created. They had both been beyond excited when they found a child that they could call their son. The feeling was right and they had been so happy. Things weren’t easy though. Martha seemed to pick up on the fine print of their brand-new son a lot quicker than George did then and it killed him inside, making him withdraw and have panic attacks. He’d ended up seeing a doctor about it for some time, who helped him with medication and therapy. Things had improved and as George settled into fatherhood more, he’d lost the need for those things. When they started talking about adding a second child to their home, George had been confident that it would be different for him this time, with more fatherhood experience under his belt, but after meeting Alex, one thing was abundantly clear for everyone in the family: they’d never dealt with anything like this before. Alexander, it was clear to all of them, was a force to be reckoned with, in ways both good and complicated. But now that they were here, on a country road together, on their way to pick him up, Martha couldn’t help but beam at the thought that their family would be completed at last. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so yeah a that was a little peak at the "lgbtq+ characters" tag; Martha is a trans woman and Washington is ace (they are in this fic anyway). Hope you liked it!


	4. something they can never take away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Washingtons take Alex home with them.

Alex liked cars. The way the rumbling engine calmed his nerves and the air always seemed a bit different inside a car, like a mixture between dust, boredom and safety. He liked how it made him feel less real and more like a character in a music video, staring out of a window dramatically. Like someone with problems, but not his problems. Brand new problems that he could deal with. He had not been the best at dealing with his own problems, after all. He was sitting in the backseat of the Washingtons’ car, feeling nervous but grounded by the car air and the feeling of fabricated problems. Whatever he would have to deal with, it wouldn’t be there until they arrived at the house. Right now, he wasn’t Alexander Hamilton. He was just a dramatic boy in a carseat. Lafayette was in the seat next to him, babbling away happily about something, Alex wasn’t paying attention. _Inattention is unsafe_. But he couldn’t feel the usual threat of his mind’s warning yet. He wasn’t real yet, after all. Martha and George were in front. Martha was driving and humming a sweet melody under her breath. George would sometimes mumble some words to the melody, but Alex didn’t care to notice what he was singing. No one appeared to mind his silence, so he just let everything drift over him like a safety blanket of unreality.  
-  
Lafayette realised that his new foster brother was very quiet and looked rather pale. Nothing like the way the two had shot words at each other at the beginning of their first meeting! He supposed this must be because of nerves, but he tried to keep a conversation going either way. When it became clear that Alex wasn’t going to respond, he simply switched over to telling his little lion stories, taking turns in speaking French and English, glancing over every so often to see how the boy was looking. He simply didn’t seem all there. It worried Laf, but he was determined not to let that show. He amped up the enthusiasm even more as he rambled about his friends in French. “They will go to the same high school as we will, dear!” No response. _Something is going on in this boy’s mind and I can’t break through_. Lafayette shot a quick look at George, who had begun to notice the silence as well. The man raised one eyebrow slightly, but said nothing about it. They were both worried, but not overly so; this was, after all, an overwhelming and new situation for the boy. _Mon ami is simply coping in his own way. He will be fine_. His mother had started to hum a little while ago. Lafayette knew this song very well. His parents had written it for him when he had just arrived at their house. Every once in a while, George mumbled some of the words in his beautiful, deep voice. “As sweet as a songbird and light as his feathers is what your dreams can be…” It warmed Lafayettes heart to know that this time, the song wasn’t just for him, but for Alex, too.   
\-   
A burst of fresh air snapped Alex out of his trancelike state. They were at the house and George had opened the car door on his side for him. “Welcome to the house, young man.” _So he remembered not to call me son._ Alex stepped out of the car and let the scent of the outdoors overtake him, driving out the feeling of being distant, a video character, that he’d had in the car. _He didn’t say welcome home either, which is good. That would’ve been very forced._ It was a sunny day, but it wasn’t very warm. The wind was chilly and Alex was only wearing a lightweight hoodie as extra protection from the cold. He didn’t own a jacket or a coat. He shivered involuntarily. Martha frowned at him, shifting into mother hen mode in an instant. “Right, let’s get you inside, darlin’, lest you catch your death.” The word death made Alex uncomfortable, but he didn’t say anything and simply followed her inside, still a bit too distracted to pay much attention to his surroundings. Lafayette was close behind him, followed by George. They were like a bunch of ducklings following their mother, it must’ve looked ridiculous. Alex suppressed a laugh. _Not good to draw attention to myself right now. This is where it gets really dangerous. Pay attention. Inattention is unsafe._  
-  
Once Martha had gotten everyone warmed up with some tea, she offered to show Alex around. Lafayette had quickly jumped in and offered to do it instead, knowing how intimidating a new house with new people parenting you could be. He felt like he would be a more relaxed option. Alex was, indeed, relieved to be going with Lafayette. The boy seemed nice enough and even if he turned out to be bad, he could probably overpower him and take off. _This time I’m making something of myself, even if that means leaving._ The Washingtons’ house was large. Alex had already seen that from the outside, but he was only now realising that it was, in fact, _truly gigantic_. The ceilings were high and the halls were wide and there were many, many rooms. _Alright, so these people are loaded. I’m probably a charity project to them. But maybe I’m not to Lafayette. He probably doesn’t make his own money yet._ Alex decided that the big house was not reason enough to write off Lafayette just yet. They walked from the kitchen, where they had been sitting, drinking tea, to the hallway. Alex cursed himself for not paying more attention to the outside of the house and the kitchen. _Information is key_. He vowed to take in every detail from every other corner of the house. If there was as much as a creaking floorboard, he would need to know, in case he ever needed to escape. He went to tuck on the shoulder strap of his backpack to ground himself more, when - _where is it? Where the fuck is it?_  
-  
Lafayette had just led his foster brother into the hallway when the boy stopped dead. “Mon ami, what is it?” Lafayette asked, both amused and concerned. This boy seemed to be a walking mystery to him. When Alex didn’t answer, Lafayette took a step toward him, noticing how his breath had picked up in pace. “Are you alright, cher?” The panicking young man still didn’t answer, but began to tremble and grow paler. He looked like he might faint. Lafayette didn’t know what to do. The boy needed to sit down and have some water, probably, but he couldn’t get through to him. Would it be okay to touch him? As Alex grew paler and paler, worry occupied Lafayettes chest more and more, like a fire spreading through him. Calling his parents into the hallway would probably only make matters worse… _Screw it, I need to do something before mon ami collapses._ Throwing some of his caution to the wind, Laf took Alex’s hand, The panting boy looked up shocked, but didn’t recoil. _Okay, this is good, I just need to lead him to the couch._ He tugged on Alex’s hand softly and took a step towards the living room. The boy, _thank god_ , followed him. They made their way to the couch slowly, every step an effort that seemed too much for Alex. As soon as they made it, Alex basically collapsed onto the couch, panting and sweating. Lafayette didn’t want to leave his foster brother alone in this state, but he needed to do something… “I am going to help you get through this dear, don’t worry. I am going to help you and I will be right back.” Laf’s heart broke when he heard Alex’s panting get more severe at his words. The boy wanted him to stay. Still, he had to do something, so he ran back to the kitchen, blinking away some tears of worry and guilt. “Papa, do we have any ice cubes?” George’s head snapped up from his phone, which he had been scrolling through, immediately realising the implications of this question. “Panic attack?” He forced his voice to be even and calm as he said this, although his heart was starting a small riot in his chest. His newest boy was hurting and he knew all too well how terrible attacks felt. Alex probably felt like he was dying. “I think so. He isn’t breathing well and he’s all pale and sweaty and well… like you used to get sometimes.” Lafayette looked at his feet when he said this, knowing the topic was a hard one for his father. George simply nodded and rushed to the fridge, grabbing and slamming the ice cube tray until two fell out. “Put one in his mouth, Lafayette. And stay with him. Use your phone to get Martha and me if something gets worse. It’s better if we stay here for now. Changing his situation too much would only hurt him at this time. Please keep us up to date.” His commands were deep and urgent, like rumbling thunder but without the threat. Lafayette nodded and then wasted no time in getting back to Alex, running with the melting cube in his hand.  
-  
 _Cold. My mouth is cold_. This was the first thought other than _it’s gone where is it_ Alex was able to think since the panic had begun. He focussed his attention on that fact. It was the safest one. It could bring him back to the present, hopefully. _My mouth is cold and wet because there is.. something…_ Thinking was hard, but it helped. He wasn’t yet able to control his breathing or stop his trembling, but at least he was aware of his state now. _There is an ice cube in my mouth. Someone put it there. There are people with me, because I’m…_ He couldn’t remember where he was or why. He couldn’t retain his grasp on the facts, so the panic got more space again, clawing and growing and ever intensifying. He tried to fight it, he had to, he was being _stupid, vulnerable, unsafe… because I am with people because I am in a house. In the house where I am going to live. With the Washingtons and their son._ His control rose again and the ringing in his ears was starting to subside. He could hear someone whisper French words to him. The boy, Lafayette, his mind supplied. Something was happening near the door and then something was pressed against his forehead, cool and wet. It helped with the thinking and he could slowly, slowly feel his chest get less tight, his trembling less violent. He realised the french words were numbers and he tried to breathe along with the counting. It helped within a few minutes and as he calmed down enough to support his body, he sat up and blinked hard, forcing his _stupid god damn_ tears away. After a few seconds of this, he looked up. The worried face of Lafayette was looking at him. “There you are. Do you want something, dear?” Lafayette was probably referring to something to eat or drink or even a blanket, but Alex could only think of one thing that he wanted at that moment. “Backpack..” he forced out, his voice raspy and soft. “Oh! I think you might’ve left it in the car. I could get it for you but…” Lafayettes voice trailed off, not wanting to leave Alex alone, but also not wanting him to think that he saw him as weak. “Can I ask mom or dad to get it for you?” he finally continued, not giving any reason as to why he wasn’t going himself. Alex nodded, too desperate for his stuff to argue. Laf let out a relieved sigh and sent a quick message on his phone. A few moments later, George walked in with his backpack. Relief flooded over Alex with such force that he almost choked out a sob. George thoughtfully handed the bag to Lafayette and stayed near the door. Laf gave the bag to Alex, who grabbed it immediately, opening it and desperately rummaging through it until he could feel the cover of his diary. He carefully paged through it without looking until he felt an envelope inside it. This time, he couldn’t hold back the sob waiting in the back of his throat. _The picture is still there. They didn’t take it from me. I still have her with me…_ It took him a few moments to register that Lafayette was rubbing his shoulders gently. He was so tired from the emotions of the day that he couldn’t even care anymore. George, mercifully, had left them alone again. He looked up at Lafayette, an unspoken plea in his eyes. The French teen seemed to understand as he wordlessly led Alex to his feet, to the room that was to be his. All intentions of paying extreme attention and memorising every creaking floorboard were forgotten as Alex trailed behind his foster brother and collapsed onto his bed as soon as they reached it. _I still have her with me._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the overuse of the word "problems" in the first paragraph omg. All other words felt wrong somehow!


	5. a mind at work

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex spends a day with Lafayette... and someone else?

“He needs help, Martha.” George eyed his wife, trying to measure her response, to anticipate it by studying every shift in her face and posture. He was determined to do everything right, to make himself understood as clearly as water on a day without wind, because he needed to prove to himself that he could be the father that he had to be, calm and sure and with all the right solutions. In truth, the boy’s panic attack had brought back some memories George did not much care to re-examine anytime soon. _“Like you used to get sometimes”. So Lafayette has noticed. I tried my best to keep any weakness from him, but the boy is smart and observant. Of course he noticed._ George felt a vague reprimand in the back of his head in the voice of his former therapist, _panic is not weakness,_ but he shook it off. He watched Martha’s mouth tense slightly, but not angrily, one of her thin eyebrows raising a bit, her hand going through her blonde curls. _She is amused, then_. Sure enough, her words caught up with her facial expression in no time. “You don’t say, George. Do you think I was daydreaming just now, unaware of the goings-on around me?” Her tone floated around somewhere between serious and bantering. “I know Martha, but I’m just saying… you don’t know what it’s like to go through those attacks.” He blushed brightly while saying this, while the light in his eyes dimmed a bit. “It feels like… like drowning, like dying, while not even existing in the first place. But you also feel like you exist too much. I just… I can’t explain it, Mar, but… trust me when I say, he’s going to need more than just us for this.” “You seem to forget who convinced **you** to seek professional help, Georgie,” Martha answered, her voice stern but her eyes soft. “I know you are the expert on this sweetheart, really, but you also have to trust me. Because I am the expert on being on the outside of this.” George let out an indignant huff. “And how exactly would that qualify you to know how this boy feels?” His voice had gotten just a hint louder, his old temper attempting to rise up again. His wife noticed and held up her hand in a gentle motion. “It doesn’t, George. It qualifies me to help **you** through it.”  
\-   
Lafayette always prided himself on his wit and his way with both people and paper when it came to words, but at the moment, he found himself tongue-tied. He was standing in Alexander’s room, the boy a mess on his bed, clutching an old photograph. The sight was so pitiful that it felt to Lafayette as if it bound him to an oath of silence, like a monk in worship or a spy under torture, he couldn’t quite grasp which one. He felt warmth for his new brother, but also a great sadness, a sea of pain that did not come from within Lafayette, but that came flooding over him all the same, radiating off the poor collapsed boy on the bed. After what seemed like an age, Alex looked up, straight into Lafayettes eyes. The French teen found his voice again, Alex’s eyes having broken whatever spell he had been under. “Mon ami, are you alright?” Concern shone through every syllable of his words. Alex looked almost more wounded at this, but only for a second before his gaze hardened into something distant and vaguely unkind, saying “I’m fine. I would like to be left alone now.” Lafayette didn’t see any other option than retreat, closing the door behind him as he left the room.  
\-   
Alex felt tired to the bone, to the cell, to the molecule. Every inch of him ached with emotion and the beginnings of fatigue. _I don’t have time for this_. But he didn’t have a choice. He vaguely wished he hadn’t sent the French boy away. He had been comforting. _But it’s not safe_. He tried to force himself to think, to stay awake. He fell asleep in an awkward position within 30 minutes.  
\-   
Night fell over the Washington household with a gentle cloak of darkness, coaxing them to sleep one by one. Lafayette’s worrying drifted from his mind as the gentle hands of sleep shut his eyes. George and Martha fell into a deep sleep in each other’s arms to the rhythm of their own breaths and the wind outside. Only Alex was left in a fitful state, sleeping one moment, waking the next, drifting between fatigue and panic like a fever dream. His throat was dry, sweat slicked his face, yet before he could get himself to drink some water, nightmares dragged him under once more. When the night was lifted the next morning to make way for the sun and the house began to wake, Alex hardly felt rested at all.  
-  
Martha was woken by the sound of the songbirds that morning and for a moment she felt completely at peace. Then she remembered the night before, the way Alex had looked when panic gripped him. Like a small, fragile version of her husband. She got up quickly, putting on slippers and a bathrobe. She rushed downstairs, binding her hair away in a messy ponytail while walking. When she reached the kitchen, she saw no one was in there yet. _Good_. She would take this time to cook up breakfast and make tea. Those things always worked wonders for George on the day after an attack. That, and a carefully curated combination of rest and distraction. She began to form a plan in her mind. _The boy needs proper food and tea, I’ll make him some pancakes and earl grey. He probably won’t have slept well, if he’s anything like my Georgie, so we should probably start the day off slow. I’ll show him our books, he’ll like that, the kid seems bright. Then for distraction… reading won’t do it. I’ll have Lafayette take him shopping for clothes and school supplies. Summer vacation will end soon, so we’ll have to either way. And without us there, the poor boy might be less intimidated…_ Martha’s mind calmly made its way through the plan. She felt hesitant to leave Alex - _my newest son_ \- alone without adults like that, but Lafayette was a responsible boy and she had seen how much adults felt like a threat to Alex. He hadn’t said anything, but she had seen how his trembling intensified as soon as he’d seen George come closer during his attack. And she’d noticed how he preferred to speak to Lafayette, avoiding words with her and George more. She sighed. She wished it wasn’t like this, but she felt like she could understand. When they had only just gotten Lafayette, she had felt hurt when the boy wanted as little as possible to do with them in the beginning, but he had told them how intimidating the whole situation had been for him later on. Alex must be feeling the same way. Still, she’d make sure Lafayette’s phone was fully charged and had the sound on before the two would go on their way. And she’d make sure her volume was way up, too. If Alex even agreed to go, that was, and as she was jerked out of her thoughts by the thud of a boy recoiling towards the kitchen wall at the sight of her for a second, before taking up an arguably aggressive stand, she was starting to doubt if he would agree to anything she had to say at all.  
-  
“I thought you’d still be asleep.” It sounded almost accusatory, if it wasn’t for the tiniest tremble in Alex’s voice that gave away his true emotion: fear. He heard it and cursed himself silently. “Oh, the birds decided to be my natural alarm clock this morning, dear, so I decided to go ahead and make breakfast. Come have some.” Alex had planned on stealing food from the kitchen and retreating into his room to avoid the Washingtons, but that was clearly not going to happen and his stomach gave an agitated rumble. _Fuck it._ He nodded curtly and sat down at the table. Martha gave him a warm smile and placed a plate of pancakes and a cup of steaming tea in front of him. “How did you sleep?” she asked. Alex’s mind felt hazy with exhaustion as he had had a rather fitful sleep that night and the consequence of panic attacks was always a draining of energy. He wasn’t about to admit that, though. “Fine, mrs Washington.” “Oh please, call me Martha.” Alex nodded again and cut into his pancakes, throwing Martha an anxious look every few seconds, as if waiting for a reprimand. She noticed. “Please eat, darlin’, we have enough.” Alex blushed, feeling caught, but didn’t say anything. He had only gotten a few bites in before the sound of footsteps made him turn around in his seat. George walked into the kitchen sleepily and sat down at the table, next to Martha. “Good morning Alex, morning Mar. How did you all sleep?” “Fine, sir.” George waved a large hand in the air at this, making Alex flinch. George either didn’t see this, or pretended not to. “Please, call me George, young man.” Alex nodded again. Words were tiring. George let his eyes waver on Alex for a few seconds, trying to decide whether the boy had spoken the truth or not. He landed on the conclusion that the boy had probably lied, but that he wasn’t going to push it any further. “And you are yet to answer the question, Martha dearest.” “Oh, I slept wonderfully, Georgie dear. Here, have some pancakes and tea.” She provided the food and drink for her husband, nurturing and mothering everyone, even him. It made Alex feel a tad safer. She seemed to genuinely care about people naturally, like an instinct. They sat and ate and drank in silence for a little while, Alex feeling a bit spaced out, Martha and George not wanting to overwhelm him. The quiet, though, turned out to be one before the storm, albeit a pleasant storm, because in no time, Lafayette darted into the kitchen. “Bonjour mama, papa, Alex! The morning is beautiful, is it not?” He looked at all of them expectantly. George chuckled. “Yes, son, it’s beautiful, but most of us are not as awake as you are just yet. Give us some time to shake sleep off.” “Nonsense! The day starts as soon as you are out of bed. Now tell me, papa, mama, do we have any plans for today? I thought I might show little Alex here around.”   
-  
Alex cringed internally at being called little, but didn’t have the energy to argue. He let Martha’s words about her ideas for the day wash over him, registering them in the back of his head as _not too threatening_. He agreed to them, mainly to have something to do that day that would keep him close to the French teen. _He feels safe to me, but I will not let my guard down_. As breakfast progressed, Alex finally took some time to take in the kitchen. It was large, with a distinctly teal theme. The walls were a light green with a decorative banner near the ceiling. There was much space for cooking and there was a large stove. The dining table was set in the middle of the kitchen, large and rectangular, with comfortable chairs surrounding it. Some art graced the walls, but none that particularly tickled Alexander’s fancy. His attention went to the floor. It was tiled. _No creaking then, that’s good._ Several wide windows sat in the walls and a large door led to the garden. _A place like this could feed and host at least a dozen people comfortably, yet here we are with just the four of us._ Alex wasn’t sure how to feel about this. His unease continued as they walked through the hall after breakfast - **they** being Martha, Lafayette and himself, as George was dealing with the dishes. The floor was a rich, dark wood that was prone to making sounds beneath his feet. _That’s unfortunate._ This whole place held more luxury and comfort than Alex had ever seen. All of his reserves were forgotten, however, when they got to the living room.  
-  
Lafayette looked at his new brother as Alex entered the living room again. He’d expected a bit of a reaction, considering how beautifully decorated the room was _by moi, thank you very much_ and how Alex probably hadn’t registered much of it in his state last night, but he’d never expected anything near the level of emotional excitement that was currently radiating off the boy, no matter how hard he was trying to hide it. He exchanged a silent look with his mother, who had a warm look in her eyes. Alex seemed to be drawn to the bookcases lining most walls of the room, a look of near-desperation looming in his gaze, longing for the chance to lay his hands on all of the books, but too scared to ask. “I want you to know that all of this is as much for you as it is for us, darlin’”, Martha broke the silence. Alex looked caught, cheeks flushing red like a child who had been seen eyeing candy. “Thank you, ma’am.” His voice was barely above a whisper, awe carved into every inch of his expression. Martha was so endeared by the look on his face, she didn’t even remember to tell him to call her Martha. But still he stood there, nailed to the floor. Lafayette decided to take matters into his own hands and walked up to the bookcase in the left corner of the room. “Mon frère, this is one of my favourite books. Have you read it?” He held up a copy of Shakespeare’s Scottish Play. The familial title Lafayette had granted Alex somehow felt less threatening to the boy when it was uttered in French. It felt nice, even, to be someone’s frère. He nodded, “It is one if his best works, in my opinion.” Lafayette looked impressed at this. Alex felt emboldened to step forward and peer over the books more closely himself. “This is one of my favourites, mon ami. Have you had the chance to read it?” Alex hadn’t felt ready to call Lafayette his frère just yet, but his ami… that felt right at that moment. He held up a copy of Euripides’ Alkestis, in Greek. “This is not necessarily the best text edition… no offence. But Parker has some solid commentary.” Lafayette laughed. “Mon Alex, I am afraid I do not read Greek! None of us do, actually… that is simply one of the books papa keeps around for the aesthetic.” Lafayette winked at Alex. “But you do know Greek? That is most impressive!” “Well… as much as anyone can ever know Ancient Greek.”   
-  
The following hour was filled with enthused talk between the two boys about books and languages. Neither of them noticed when Martha left the room to give them their time together. After a while, though, Alex’s fatigue caught up with him again. Lafayette noticed his responses getting slower and less witty. “Are you well, mon frère? You seem out of it.” “Yeah, just a bit tired.” Lafayette nodded, understanding. “Oui, I can imagine. Would you like some more sleep?” “Nah, I’m better off not sleeping during the day, if I want to get my sleep schedule in check.” “That’s true.” George’s voice, coming from the hall, startled both of them. He walked into the room. “Why don’t you guys go to the mall now? Some fresh air might be good and you both need your school things.”  
-  
After a lot of fussing from Martha, the two teenagers were finally standing outside, waiting for the bus. It arrived and after a short trip, it stopped near the mall and the boys got off. They decided to go to a clothing store first. Alex felt uncomfortable about these people spending money on him, but he also knew he had to be strategic. _If everything goes to shit and I have to leave, I’ll need stuff to sell in order to survive_. So it felt bad, but also safer, to accept the offer. _And besides, I probably wouldn’t have had a real choice in the matter. If I don’t come with, they’ll still buy me stuff, just without my being there. They seem to have an urge to provide._ They stepped into a small store called ‘The Apprentice’ that was new at the mall, when Alex’s attention was grabbed entirely by something, someone so very unexpected that he audibly gasped, before uttering “Hercules?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I always imagine Martha with blonde curls although she didn't have those and I don't know why, sorry!  
> 2\. I chronically overuse the words slightly and vaguely, oops  
> 3\. Not taking any chances w/ naming the Scottish Play lmao sorry. Look it up if you don't know what I mean  
> 4\. Alkestis is simply one of my fav works of Euripides (I used to be a classics student, sorry!)  
> 5\. It is also to be noted that I do think that Parker's text is one of the best available and that any faults in it are easily rectified by a complete and detailed critical apparatus that is also referred to in the commentary. I just wanted Alex to be snarky here sorry   
> 6\. yes they use French to gossip about George haha. Sorry that I don't know enough actual French to write whole sentences in it and therefore use the underline option to indicate French.  
> 7\. "as much as anyone can ever know Ancient Greek" is a bit of a running gag among many classics students
> 
> thank you so much for reading!! I love you all <3


	6. all that we lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some things are explained. Most things are not. Oops.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah I basically disregarded the timeline even more than the musical does. I realise Alex wasn't ten at all when he got to America! But it fit the narrative so I just went with it. Also this took me a long time because I had some shit going on, sorry! Also also I'm not very happy with this but well you know what they say... I will never be satisfied. Thank you for reading!

When Hercules arrived at work that morning, he hadn’t expected the day to be very interesting at all. Working at The Apprentice was something he did for money, not for fun. It was the only place around that would hire a fifteen-year-old and the work wasn’t so bad, so he was satisfied. He liked clothes well enough, but he was usually not so big on customers. The day had gotten unexpectedly interesting, however, when someone from his past had come walking through the door. Well, at first it didn’t change much. Hercules hadn’t seen Alexander in ages, after all, so he wasn’t too quick to recognise him. But then he heard the oh so familiar voice stuttering out his name and he knew. This was Alexander Hamilton. He strode up to the boy in a few quick paces and immediately wrapped him into a warm hug. They stood there for a moment, not speaking, simply enjoying their reunion, warmth and joy and fright washing over both of them like a sea of light and energy. Then, Hercules remembered that two people had walked through the door, and realised that Alex wasn’t alone. He let go of his old friend reluctantly and looked at the other boy. “I’m Hercules.” “I figured as much.” The teen’s voice sounded amused, but not unkindly so. “My name is a long story, but call me Lafayette.” “He just means he has many names,” Alex piped in. “Laf, I know Hercules from when I just got to America. His family helped me get into the system, but never got approved to foster me long term themselves.” He blushed furiously at this. Hercules wasn’t sure why. “Mon ami, I did not realise you were not born in America! You are a man of mysteries, non?” _So that’s what the blushing’s about. He hasn’t told this guy he’s an immigrant… he’s always been sensitive about that_. Alex tried to shoot the _apparently French_ teen a smile, but it came out a bit forced and Hercules realised Alex wanted to change the topic. He decided to come to his aid and do it himself. “So how do you know Alex?” “Alex is mon nouveau frère! He has had the extreme luck to get a placement in a house with yours truly.” A wink. The guy was confident, full of jokes. Hercules liked his easygoing nature. What he liked even more, was the fact that Alex didn’t flinch at being called a brother (Hercules’ knowledge of French was limited, but he could decipher that much). The boy had, in Hercules’ experience, always been rather weary of familial titles. From the corner of his eye, Hercules saw his boss glaring at him. _Right, work._ He lowered his voice and spoke, “Hey, it’s really awesome to see you again Lex, and it’s nice to meet you, Lafayette, but my boss is gonna flip if I spend much longer talking to you… I get off at three, how about we get some coffee then? At the little shop on the corner?” Lafayette knew the shop and they agreed to meet there at ten past three.  
-  
Neither Lafayette nor Alex payed much attention to the actual shopping while they browsed some stores for the things they needed. They got Alex a full new wardrobe’s worth of clothes (all picked out by Lafayette) and some devices, too; a laptop, a phone and headphones. Alex felt uneasy about it all, but kept reminding himself that he could sell the stuff if he needed to escape. Besides, most of his attention was still on the unexpected reunion he’d just had, leaving him with a warm feeling inside that made it hard to worry too much. _Hercules Mulligan! Here! How is this possible?_ Alex couldn’t believe his luck. The guy he’d loved like a brother, who he’d been unable to reach for ages, was here. _But why? His parents must’ve moved here, but the coincidence of it all is insane._ When Alex first set foot on American soil, he had been 10. He had been granted entrance as a fugitive from natural disaster and he’d been alone, only seeing official government people and fellow refugees. Nothing close to family. He was scared, young, traumatised. He wouldn’t have stood a chance to build a life in America if it hadn’t been for the Mulligans, two young adults and their sweet son, who fought for his rights. They took him in as a crisis placement because the orphanages and refugee centres were overflowing. They made sure he got a case worker and called the man every day, ensuring he was actually doing his job. Alex ended up staying there for a few weeks and got close with the son, Hercules. When another, more permanent placement, opened up, Alex was whisked away. The Mulligans tried very hard to get approved to be his long term placement, but to no avail. Alex didn’t have any means to stay in touch with any of them, though he begged and begged to be allowed to send a letter. He thought he’d lost them forever.  
-  
At ten past three exactly, Alex and Lafayette made their way through the wide doors of the coffee shop. Hercules was already sitting at a small table in the corner and waved them over. Lafayette and Alex joined them there, both a bit nervous, but Alex mainly excited. A waiter came over and Alex ordered a black coffee. Lafayette went for a soy latte. It was quiet for a while. Then, Hercules spoke: “Alex, my man, I have missed you like crazy. I begged mr. Burr endlessly to get your address to send you letters but he never allowed it. I really wanted to though, mate, you have to believe me.” There was a panicked edge to Hercules’ voice. “Relax, Herc. I figured as much, as he did the same to me. He even instructed my foster parents to keep an eye on me, making sure I’d never be able to contact you.” Hercules’ eyes widened in shock. “And they agreed to that?!” Alex looked down at his hands in his lap “yeah, well, they did many things.” Hercules’ look of alarm turned into one of deep worry. “What do you mean, Lex?” Alex shrugged, annoyed at himself for slipping up like that. He wanted to go back to the warm fuzzy feeling, not think about his experiences there. “Look, we don’t have to talk about it right now, okay, Herc?” His tone didn’t leave room for argument. It made him feel guilty, but he had to. He couldn't do this right now. Laf, desperate to lighten the mood, clapped in his hands, making Alex flinch. “Right! This is a happy reunion, non? Why don’t you tell me about yourself, Hercules? You look like you enjoy working out, oui? What else?” He winked. Hercules blushed. _This boy is a flirt!_ “I’m really not all that interesting.” He tried to sound casual, but couldn’t keep the nerves out of his voice. He was kicking himself, annoyed that a _very beautiful_ boy could distract him from a reunion with his old friend. Lafayette laughed generously. “Somehow I doubt that, chèr.” Hercules’ blush deepened, but he turned his attention back to Alex nonetheless. “I’ve missed you so much, man. I know I’ve said that already, but god, I just can’t get over it. I have a mobile phone now. Can I give you the number? Maybe you can call me from the house phone or a payphone sometime?” His eyes were pleading, desperate not to let Alex slip right through his fingers again, just as he had found him again. “I… actually have a mobile phone now too, I guess. I just got it. So I wouldn’t even need a payphone or whatever. Yeah, let’s exchange numbers.” They did, and the conversation shifted to a more comfortable energy, the urgency having lifted a bit. They would be able to reach each other now. Both boys silently pledged to themselves that they would learn the other’s number by heart, just in case, to never get separated again, completely unaware of the fact that they were both thinking the same thing at the same time.  
-  
After a few hours of easy conversation, with all coffee long gone, Alex started to feel the strain and tiredness of the rough night again. He became less quick with his words and both Lafayette and Hercules noticed. They kept the conversation up for a bit longer between the two of them, mainly talking about clothes, and ended up exchanging numbers too. Hercules felt a guilty sort of relief at the idea that Alex wasn't paying much attention to him, since Alex knew all of his tell tale signs for when he found a boy attractive. _He's definitely already noticed it earlier in the conversation, but at least he's not piercing me with one of his looks now that I'm asking for Lafayette's number..._ After a while, though, Alex’s eyes glazed over and Lafayette gently suggested they should probably get going “so we don’t worry the parents.” All three of them knew Alex was the real reason, but nobody brought it up. Alex was thankful. The thankful haze stayed, clouding over the worries perpetually carved into his mind, all the way back to the house. The sight of it made him feel more awake and on edge. _I’m not safe here_. Still, armed with Hercules’ number and the memory of their reunion, his heart was starting to beat to the rhythm of finding just a bit more than to that of losing. _Maybe some things aren’t lost forever._


	7. despite our estrangement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> some developments and an important first meeting

Things were odd the next few weeks. Alex was trying to get used to life with the Washingtons, but he hadn’t even seen the full house yet. Seeing too many rooms in a row often overwhelmed him, sending him spiralling.   
_What have I done to deserve this? Why do I get to use all of this - so much more than I could ever need - while people are starving and dying of treatable disease? Dying because they have nothing? Why do I get everything?_   
Martha was the first to catch on and suggested they take it slow, going through a few rooms a day. It was strange, but it worked, and Alex began to feel less guilty about all of the riches around him. He could feel the side of him that really liked this kind of life growing every day and he wasn’t sure what to think of it, but he let it happen regardlessly.   
He texted Hercules every day and they called once a week. They didn’t meet up again in real life yet, though, because Alex didn’t want to bring it up with his foster parents. He didn’t want to ask them if Hercules could come over, nor if he could go out.   
_Best not to ask for anything at all._   
He spent a lot of time reading books, alone in his room, or going through his possessions. It became like an obsession. He was the dragon and this was his hoard. He grew to cherish all of his clothing and his devices, taking to the habit of estimating what he could get for his stuff if he sold it whenever he felt unsafe.   
_I have a way out._  
He was beginning to feel more and more sure that he didn’t like this part of himself, but he also knew that it was this part that would always, always keep him safe. So he let it grow.  
-  
With every day, Alex grew more familiar with the house and its personality. He knew when to tread lightly to avoid a creak. He knew which windows were most secure. He counted the amount of steps between all furniture in any given room, memorising this so he could make his way in the dark. He knew where the emergency supplies were. He knew where the roof would rattle most under gusts of wind. He memorised the location of all light switches. One night, when everyone else was sleeping, he snuck into the kitchen and stole a knife. One they had duplicates of, so no one would be likely to miss it. When he got back to his room, he slit a hole in the underside of his mattress, creating a pocket. In it, he hid his diary and the knife itself.   
_Just in case_.   
-  
After the success of his first bout of late-night thievery, he felt emboldened to sneak into the kitchen more often. He began to build emergency food reserves, stuffing his mattress with cans from the backs of cupboards and hiding packets of crackers under piles of clothing. He was obsessed with obtaining as much security for himself as possible. He viewed his room as a dungeon, stacked with all of his essentials. He got caught up in the process, in himself. He came out of his room less and less, forgetting the way he had liked the French teen, forgetting the loving smile between the Washingtons that had made him want to trust them. He stayed in his room and guarded his possessions and his heart. He came out for meals, still, and at night, to see if there was anything else he could take that would go unnoticed. The dislike that he had for himself piled up like sticks on a bird’s nest until he had unmeaningly built a home made of spite and hurt. It felt like a prison he had put himself in. After all, how could he go back to socialising with the family now that he had stolen from them? The more he took, the less he felt like he could talk to them and the less he felt like he could talk to them. the more he felt he had to take to keep himself safe.  
-  
Lafayette prided himself on not being easily offended. He was wrong in this, of course, as he was rather easy to offend much of the time, but when it came to Alex, it was true. The boy could do no harm and hold no blame in his eyes. It stung, the way he shut him out, but he didn’t say anything. When he noticed that food was going missing, he didn’t say anything either. His parents hadn’t addressed it. Perhaps they didn’t even know yet. After all, neither of them were in the habit of taking stock of their supplies much. If something was running low, they’d get some more. If they didn’t remember when it was used, they just assumed one of their boys had taken it as a snack, or that they misremembered it being there in the first place. It didn’t sit entirely easy with Lafayette to know that Alex was, to some extend, betraying their trust, but he didn’t blame him. And he didn’t tell on him. He did miss him, though, and he wasn’t the only one.   
  
**Hunkules Mulligan:** hey bro, seen much of lex lately?   
**Man of Many Names** : I live with him, mon ami! What do you expect?   
**Hunkules Mulligan:** yeah yeah french toast, you know what i mean   
  
Lafayette sighed. He did know. He had hoped that Alex was still talking to Hercules (Lafayette had nicknamed him Hunkules in his phone and was very proud of this joke), at least. He and Hercules had been messaging back and forth ever since they met. Their conversations were pleasant and even flirtatious at times, but Lafayette still couldn’t tell for sure if Hercules was into men _and more importantly into me_ , or not.   
_But that is beside the point now.  
  
_ **Man of Many Names:** To be truthful, I have hardly seen him outside of his room. He is very withdrawn! Only comes down for food. But I do not want to push le petit lion. New families are scary, non?   
**Hunkules Mulligan:** hmm yeah but i worry. school is starting tomorrow tho. so we’ll see him then   
**Man of Many Names:** Oui! He will have a very good school day, I will make it so!   
  
Lafayette swore to himself that he would.   
\-   
Wool’s high school was a large school. John had known this already, going in, but it still startled him a bit. He wasn’t anxious about crowds, per se, but the idea of how many students would poor into this school in just a moment did make him feel significantly outnumbered. He didn’t know any of them. He didn’t trust any of them. He was early and standing next to his locker, eyeing the entrance suspiciously. There was already a small trickle of people coming in.   
_Other early bird_ s.   
He tried to take note of every person.   
_Tall guy with glasses just pushed some kid. Girl with green backpack looks like she just cried. Person with red lipstick and a “they/them/theirs” badge is laughing loudly, seems confident. Guy with a French accent is walking next to some anxious pretty boy._   
His mind was working fast and hard, labelling people, storing them in his brain, his gaze all over the place to catch as many people as possible. Then, he felt something. Someone was trying to open his bag! Without hesitation, he turned around and punched whoever was doing it square in the face. When he looked again, to see who he had just assaulted, his heart dropped.  
 _Shit, I decked the pretty boy._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guess who's pretty late again! C'est moi. I'm sorry folks, as long as I still have to share my laptop w my boyfriend, updates will be very irregular. I hope you enjoy it nonetheless, though! This is a bit of a set-up chapter, the next chapter will pack a bit more action ;)   
> Thank you for reading!   
> p.s. Please forgive me for the Hunkules pun. It wouldn't leave my brain.


	8. outplanned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex has an interesting first day of school

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for how incredibly long this took, wow. This is probably tmi, but I have depression and it's been pretty bad the last few weeks. I'm still not really all that happy with this chapter, but I'm pretty proud that I managed to write something again despite my bastard brain, so here it is anyway. Thank you so much for reading! More major plot points will start to come into play soon :)

Alex had been dreading the first day of school and so far, the day was proving him right. While Alex generally liked being right, he had to admit that circumstances were not ideal right now. His mind took about half a second to kick into fight or flight mode, choosing fight, but the boy who had greeted him with a fist to the face reacted even quicker and grabbed him by the arm, dragging him into the bathroom. Alex’s defence dropped a bit in shock, but not quite all the way.   
“What are you doing, asshole?!” he heard himself yell at his attacker. The boy shot a toothy grin at him, only halfway nice.  
“I could ask you the same thing, thief.”  
Alex felt his entire face go scarlet at the accusation, but he couldn’t exactly deny it.   
_It’s true and the boy already knows it. I won’t make a fool of myself by being caught in a lie as well._   
Still, he wasn’t sure what he should say and it made him feel very unsafe. His sharp tongue, his keen wit, these were supposed to be his defining features, so why was he so easily brought off balance by this stranger?   
“I would actually like an answer. Why the fuck were you taking my stuff?” The grin had developed into a snark.  
 _Fuck, I have to say something right now, but my body is clamming up on me… not now… I just need to think._ He rummaged through his brain for a fact to calm him down, trying desperately to ignore his increasingly sweaty, shaky body, as it was _a stupid useless piece of shit that only ever lets me down and- no. Control. I need control. Many cats like to lick their owner’s hands and face. This is often a sign that the cat has been removed from their mother too soon._   
A slight slowing of his breath and pulse. _Good_. But the other boy was still staring at him and he didn’t know what he could possibly say to get himself out of this situation unscathed. Just as the recently suppressed panic fought its way up his chest once more, the slamming of the bathroom door made both of the boys turn around, startled. Lafayette came running in, hands held up, slamming them into Alex’s face and prying at his mouth. Anger rose in Alex, doing the hard work of suppressing his anxiety for him.  
“Why is everyone hitting me today?! What the fuck is this, Laf?”  
“Mon ami, I am helping! I am sorry it took so long, but I didn’t have any ice cubes so I had to hold my hands to a cold metal pipe for a while first!”   
Understanding dawned on Alexander. Lafayette must have missed the part where this strange boy hit him and had only seen Alex's reaction, so he must've thought it was a panic attack again. He was grateful for his ridiculous friend and let out a shaky laugh.   
“Thank you, Laf, I’m good now. Let’s just leave before this asshole gets me again, because he just fucking punched me.”   
He guided Lafayette’s hands off his face and turned to leave, anxious to leave a situation that would simply not allow itself to be solved with any dignity, but then-   
“Big mouth for the weirdo who just tried to rob me.”  
 _Shit, he knows French._ _Wow, there really is no dignity in this one. Not even the dignity of leaving quietly. Fine.  
_ “Look, I’m… sorry. I just… I was hungry.” He mumbled that last phrase to the ground, more than to the boy.   
It was a lie, he had been fed just fine, but he really didn’t feel like explaining how _fucking_ scared he was of going hungry and not being able to take care of himself to this stranger. Lafayette shot him a look, but decided not to ask then and there. Alex was grateful. He was expecting the stranger to laugh in his face, but the boy’s features softened and to Alex’s surprise, he opened up his bag and took out a granola bar.   
“I didn’t realise, I’m sorry. Take this. And just ask next time, okay?”   
The boy held out the bar to Alex and when he didn’t take it, the boy sighed, adding, “my dad is stupid loaded, it’s whatever, seriously.”   
So Alex took it, because even though he was so _fucking_ embarrassed, fear won out.  
“I’m John, by the way.”  
\-   
So far, Lafayette’s plans of making Alex’s first school day very good were… not developing ideally, to put it mildly. It annoyed the French teen. Getting his friend punched in the face first thing was NOT on the list of very good things he had carefully curated in his head. Not realising what had happened and then accidentally assaulting said friend himself with his cooled hands wasn't either, for that matter. Still, not all was lost, because this John guy seemed pretty nice to Lafayette after all, even though he was the type to throw punches before asking questions. And as the three of them walked through the hallway, he could tell that Alex was rather taken with the boy, too. Still, he kept half an eye on John, just to be safe. They turned a corner and he saw Hercules standing a few feet ahead. He waved at him enthusiastically and Hercules made his way over.   
“Whaddup french toast! Hey Lex! Hello stranger!”   
“I’m John. And you are..?”   
His voice sounded a bit dangerous again, but not overtly so and Hercules seemed not to notice, or maybe he chose to ignore it, because he remained as pleasant as ever.  
“Hercules Mulligan, at your service.”   
He performed a joke-bow and winked at Laf, who turned a deep plum colour immediately, before turning back to John.   
“So, John, how do you know toastie and Lex here?”  
The corners of John’s mouth twisted a bit before he settled on a weak smile, saying “we had a rather… smashing introduction just now. It’s a long story.”  
Alex couldn’t stifle a snort at the pun and just like that, all tension was gone and the four boys fell into easy conversation. Neither he nor Hercules brought up the artificial distance Alex had created between them over the past few days. It fell away completely anyway, as fragile as a child’s sandcastle trying to withstand the forces of the sea.   
“So uhm, John, why did you pull me into that bathroom just now?” Alex asked. Hercules raised an eyebrow, but Alex ignored it.   
“Oh, well, I didn’t want to get into trouble with King. I’ve heard bad things about his temper.”  
“Since when do we have a king? I did not vote for him!” Lafayette protested.   
“We don’t, that’s just the headmaster’s last name. And you don’t vote for kings, knucklehead.” Hercules informed him, chuckling.   
Their easy banter held up and by the time the school bell rang, the four of them had all exchanged phone numbers and created the group chat “Revolutionary Set”.  
-  
At the end of the school day, Lafayette and Alex said goodbye to John and Hercules and took the bus back home. The day had been intense, full of new impressions and people. Alex felt overwhelmed, but he knew Lafayette would want to talk once they got home. He tried to prepare for their conversation in his head, but his thoughts kept drifting to the events of the day.   
_I can’t believe I seriously got punched first thing. But at least my face isn’t too messed up from it. And that John guy is very nice. He looked genuinely concerned when he offered me his food. I would normally dislike anything close to pity, but with him, it didn’t feel so bad. Why did my brain malfunction so badly when he confronted me, though? I just kept thinking: I don’t want to let this one down. Why did it matter to me?_  
“You are blushing, mon ami, what is occupying your thoughts?”   
“Just… thinking about the day. The teachers aren’t really all that, huh?”   
Alex hoped to distract Lafayette from his earlier question with that, but he did also mean it. The teachers seemed rather daft to him. Some of them even looked to have a mean streak. Luckily for Alex, Lafayette flew from topic to topic like a butterfly fluttering between flowers, and he latched on to the teacher comment immediately.   
“That Lee was the grandest human turd in the existence of the earth!” Lafayette snickered at his own little rhyme. “All that ‘well, of course none of us would know what it is like to have a mental illness, but we do know that these people are unpredictable’ nonsense, how does he teach history? I do not think he know many facts at all!”  
They went back and forth about their experiences with various teachers until they reached their stop. Alex’s stomach sank suddenly, like a book that has been leaning over more and more, until gravity takes over and makes it tumble to the side. Slow and then sudden, expected but surprising. He didn’t want to go inside. He didn’t want to be confronted by his frère. He had been so _god damned_ stupid.   
_These people cared for me, and I took advantage of them. I ruined everything.  
_ He expected panic to rear its ugly head, but instead, he just felt a profound sadness at what was to come.   
_I am going to lose everything again._  
-  
Alex and Lafayette were sitting in Alex’s room, on his bed.  
“Right, mon frère, we need to talk.”   
Lafayette tried to keep his voice non-threatening, but Alex would have perceived just about anything as a threat at the moment. He looked utterly defeated, all tired eyes and sagging shoulders. He didn’t respond, because what is there to say? So Lafayette continued himself.  
“I am not going to say anything to mama or papa, if you are afraid of that. I am not angry. But I worry.”  
Still he was met with silence, so he continued yet again.  
“You seem to be scared, petit lion. That is not shameful. I am sure it has done you many favours in your past to behave like that. I know you can not necessarily change your ways at once, but I hope you will grow to feel secure enough to stop stealing at a point.”  
He looked at Alex’s face. Tears were streaming down it now, but the boy seemed oblivious to them himself. Lafayette wiped them away with his hands and was met with a gaze so intensely sad, it almost made him cry as well.  
“I think no less of you, little Alex. Do not worry.”   
He let Alex process this, seeing the sadness alleviate bit by bit.  
“And nor does John Laurens, I am sure.”  
He winked at that. The crying boy next to him let out a half-huff, half-laugh and finally rubbed the last of his tears away, embarrassed but relieved. And right at that moment, Alex decided that making his frère happy mattered more than a bit of embarrassment, so he enveloped the teen in a big hug and whispered, “thank you.”  
\-   
It was 3 o’clock, the dead of night, and the Washington household was at peace, except for one boy, who was typing away hurriedly on his phone. After a few minutes, he looked satisfied and hopped off his bed. He kneeled down and felt his way around the space under his bed without turning the light on until his hands felt a stack of boxes. He crammed all of them into a backpack and snuck downstairs, making his way outside and running to the bus stop to catch the night bus. He got back home two hours later and fell into his bed, desperate for what little sleep he could still catch before he had to get ready for school.   
\-   
When John Laurens opened his front door to grab the newspaper from the letterbox for his dad the next morning, he almost tripped over a mysterious pile of boxes haphazardly stacked near the door. When he regained his balance after almost toppling over, he peered at the boxes and let out a little noise of surprise. Someone had left a whole stack of boxes full of granola bars on his doorstep, and he was pretty sure he knew exactly who.


	9. loudmouth bother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> we are coming very close to more plot heavy parts ahh i'm sorry i know it's taking a while but every time i sit down to write a major event i'm like no! i'm not done setting it up yet! so yeah... you can blame the goblin living in my brain haha. Thank you all for reading!

Lafayette was seated at the breakfast table with his parents, working his way through a bowl of cornflakes. Alex had yet to make an entrance and Lafayette was worried he might have scared off his frère with the serious talk the previous day.   
_But he hugged me! Surely this was a good sign._  
They were to leave in half an hour and George was about to suggest that Lafayette should check on the boy when he all but stormed into the kitchen, looking about as healthy as a dying bird. Martha looked up at the banging of the door to watch the lightning following the thunder: Alex, pale, hair sticking to every side, his face bruising slightly and massive circles under his eyes. She gasped.   
“Alex! What on earth happened to you, darlin’?”   
Alex blinked a few times, willing himself to think clearly, searching for a vague yet satisfying answer.  
“A misunderstanding. Sorry. Happened yesterday. I didn’t see you guys before I fell asleep, I guess.”  
It was true. He’d stayed in his room, skipping dinner, until he sneaked off to John’s house deep in the night. He hadn’t been ready to face his foster parents and Lafayette had agreed to only tell them that he wasn’t hungry. He felt sure they hadn’t been happy about it, but they hadn’t pressed it either. When George had knocked on his door to check on him somewhere during the evening, he’d pretended to be asleep and he’d been left alone.   
The Washingtons, it turned out, were not satisfied with his answer.  
“Young man, is someone bothering you?” George asked with a careful, but concerned voice.   
He sounded so very fatherly, it made Alex want to simultaneously cry and ask for a hug. He did none, however.   
“No, it’s fine.”  
“Son, clearly something is - "  
“Please don’t.”  
George realised his slip too late. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to - "  
“What, give me a third degree first thing in the morning? Or break the boundaries I made very clear? I’m not your son. You’re not my father. We never will be those thing to each other”, Alex interrupted, his temper working together with his lack of sleep and heightened anxiety to push any words that could create distance between them out of his mouth. He could feel himself wanting the Washingtons to be proper parental figures and it terrified him. He couldn’t let himself be that vulnerable.   
_You are not safe._  
When he realised George’s breath was ragged and he was trying to blink away tears, he tried to regret his words and he did, to an extent. But it felt like trying on clothes that were beautiful and well-made, but that didn’t suit him at all. They looked good, just not on him, just as regret felt like the correct emotion, just not on him, because he wasn’t moulded to regret pushing people away. He had been bent and shaped to feel a sickening sense of relieve when he hurt people who could hurt him, no matter how much he disliked it. No matter how much it made him dislike himself.  
-  
George could feel the familiar drumming in his ears, the tightness in his throat, the pricking in his eyes. Panic. He knew it all too well. He couldn’t muster an answer to Alex’s bitter questions, could hardly push down the urge to run.   
_Some father I am._  
He nodded and worked through his breakfast as quickly as possible, after which he abruptly left the table and locked himself in his office.   
\-   
Lafayette wanted to go after his father, but Martha stopped him.   
“He just needs some space, sweetheart. You boys should go catch your bus.”  
She didn’t sound angry at all, even though, in Lafayette’s opinion, Alex deserved bit of a talking to at the moment. He couldn’t blame her, though, because he couldn’t bring himself to anger either, because when he saw Alex roaring like that, slashing at people who dared come close, all he could see was a hurt boy and it made him profoundly sad. So he finished the last of his breakfast, grabbed his bag and turned to his foster brother.  
“Let’s go, petit lion,” he said in a soft voice, “we don’t want to be late.”  
Alex followed him, his head bent low, his cheeks red in shame at the kindness he didn’t feel he deserved. They walked to the bus stop in silence, but once they got on the bus, Lafayette decided he wasn’t going to let the day be ruined and he took up a cheerful tone to start a conversation.  
“Are you looking forward to school, mon ami? You can finally meet the friends I told you about!”  
Alex’s head shot up at this.   
“Friends?”  
“Well, friend, really,” Lafayette added with a lopsided smile, “I told you when we were driving to the house together for the first time! He was ill yesterday, so he missed the first day of school, but he just texted me that he would be there today! Be warned, though, he is a bit of an eccentric character.”  
“Wait, what? I don’t remember you telling me about that.”Alex felt uneasy.   
_Inattention is unsafe._  
“Non, I suppose you would not have, you were in a universe of your own. Sorry, did I overwhelm you with it?"  
“No, it’s fine, don’t put your hands in my face again!”  
“I was not even going to!” Lafayette responded with an indignant huff. “I was trying to help you calm down when I did that yesterday.”   
His smile had turned into a comical pout and the other boy couldn’t help but snort.  
“Yeah, the sentiment is well-received, French fry, thank you. Not so helpful, though.”  
“Pff. I am no fry.”  
This made Alex laugh full-on.  
“Oh, I’m sorry, what is it that Herc calls you again? French toast? Would you rather be that?”  
Lafayette kept his indignant look for about a second longer and then joined in in the laughter, shoving Alex’s shoulder playfully.  
“You know he likes you, right?” Alex asked once they’d calmed down.  
“What! Ludicrous. You cannot possibly know.”  
“Yes I can! I know him very well and I can tell when he blushes.”  
“Non, mon ami, you must be mistaken.”  
“I can tell when you blush, too, mon frère.”  
“Merde!”  
At that, the two burst out laughing again, ignoring the annoyed glances from their fellow passengers. Alex didn’t mention that Lafayette usually wasn’t one to be this shy, and the French boy was glad for it.   
_The truth is, I know he likes me. Of course he does! But I cannot hook up with my brother’s oldest friend, not when he is just starting to trust me. He needs to know I am not a threat. I am an ally! But if him teasing me about this can keep a smile on his face, I am glad. It will be good for everyone to move on from this morning, including papa._  
\-   
John and Hercules were already standing at the entrance when Alex and Lafayette arrived.   
“Finally! Lex, Frenchie, what took you so long?” Hercules exclaimed with a wide grin.  
Lafayette decided it would be best not to get into the scene from that morning there and then, so he simply shrugged and said “It is my right to be fashionably late as a Frenchman.”  
Hercules rolled his eyes at this. “Whatever you say, man.”  
John took a decidedly less cheerful tone when he said, “Jesus Alex, I’m so sorry, I bruised you.”  
“It’s whatever”, Alex replied, mirroring John’s words from the day before, but not meeting his eyes all the same.  
John made a displeased sound and tried to catch Alex’s eye nonetheless, wanting to thank him for the granola bars but also to give them back since Alex, _apparently_ , didn’t have enough food, and wanting to say sorry more times than he wished to justify to even himself, but he was unsuccessful and decided that particular conversation would have to wait until Alex felt more at ease.   
_Still, I can’t believe I bruised that face…_  
Then both of them were snapped out of the allure of the weird energy floating between them, because Lafayette let out a squeal and yelled “Thomas!”.  
John lifted an eyebrow in question.   
“That’s a friend of Laf’s. I don’t know him either, but our baguette here warned me that he is an eccentric character…”  
“Nope! Not happening! No croissanting from the two of you.” Hercules protested immediately.  
John snickered. “Croissanting?”   
Hercules pulled a sad face. “I’m but an American sliced bread, my man. Gotta keep me in the loop.”  
Waves of laughter bubbled out of Alex at the statement of his dear friend.   
_He really does like to make ridiculous comparisons._  
The three of them giggled together until Lafayette interrupted them. Thomas had reached them and he wanted to introduce everyone. He desperately wanted everyone to be friends. Thomas, however, seemed perfectly content to introduce himself as he made an elegant little jump into the middle of their circle.  
“Thomas Jefferson is the name, bedding all hot people here is the game,” he proudly proclaimed with a hair flip and a wink.  
Lafayette caught Alex’s eye and shot him a look that seemed to say “don’t say I didn’t warn you.”   
John and Hercules merely looked stunned at this strange human in front of them. When no one responded to Thomas’s weird introduction, Lafayette clapped his hands resolutely and said, “Well, these people who may have lost their tongues are Hercules Mulligan, John Laurens and Alexander Hamilton!”  
“Ah, so you are the great Alexander I have been hearing about.” Thomas responded, completely ignoring John and Hercules.   
“Washington’s newest project, aren’t you?”  
A mixture of anger and anxiety swirled around in Alex.  
“And what’s it to you?” He snarled.  
He could see Lafayette’s face fall and realised the French teen probably had wanted them to get on, but he couldn’t get himself to let this slide.   
_I can’t show weakness_.   
Thomas simply laughed. “A feisty one! Better leash your pet, Laf.”  
“Thomas…” Lafayette pleaded.   
“Oh, relax! Everything is in good faith, just a bit of humour. Right, Alexander?”  
“It’s Alex, actually. I don’t go by my full name.” He gritted his teeth as he answered.  
A few steps away, Hercules inched towards Alex a bit instinctively. John was cracking his knuckles. Thomas took the whole scene in with an amused look plastered across his face.  
“How very common.” He replied.   
Alex was about to launch into a verbal attack when he caught another sight of Lafayette’s face, pleading. He thought of that morning, how it had pained Lafayette to see his father hurt like that. How he had already been the cause of that and of some discomfort between him and Thomas.   
_Better not aggravate this. I need him as an ally. And I like him, but that’s secondary._  
He swallowed thickly and forced a smile that came out rather like a grimace.   
“I suppose it is, Thomas.” He put the emphasis on the last word.   
_As if I’m the only one with a common name. We can’t all be Lafayette._  
It was subtle enough, because no one spoke of the name debacle anymore. 

George was rubbing his temples. He felt weary, his body calm now, but worn out. He had canceled work after his attack. He’d cried a lot and he could remember lying on the ground shaking at some point, struggling to breathe. Martha had been knocking on the door, desperate to get in, but he hadn’t let her. He’d felt too ashamed. He still did.   
_I knew this would happen. I’m not a good enough father for a kid this damaged._  
He laughed a bitter chuckle to himself, as he remembered that the kid didn’t want a father anyway, so he probably didn’t care if George was a bad one.   
_Or at least, he doesn’t want me as a father._  
The little voice in the back of his head was like a slow-spreading poison.   
_He probably does want a father. A competent one. He probably liked it better at his previous home._  
George thought back to the file and the conversations he and Martha had had with mr. Burr. Everything had been vague. No real explanation of why the boy they were interested in had been kicked out of the previous house, just an unclear story about how Alex had made accusations that were unacceptable. The memory catapulted George out of his poisonous spiral of thoughts with a shock. He hadn’t thought much of it at the time. He had reasoned that Burr was probably a busy man and that anything serious would have been documented. That seemed so painfully naive to him now that it felt almost out of character. He had been so careful, so frightful even, about all of this. How could he possibly not have dug deeper? Burr had been a smooth talker for sure, but he could usually poke through that kind of thing… he let out a sigh. No point thinking about that now, that would have to wait until later. Because he didn’t know for sure what puzzle the pieces he held would form, but he did know that Alex had never had this reaction to Martha, a motherly figure and a woman, and he didn’t like what that might imply one bit. He took a last deep breath and unlocked the door. He needed to find Martha. 


	10. lead the way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> people have emotions in this chapter because the timing felt right and also kind of because I needed to feel something so this helped. I hope you enjoy!

John didn’t like this Jefferson character one bit. He was sitting on his bed after the most tiresome, annoying school day of his entire life. It wasn’t only Thomas’s overabundance of bad jokes and misguided self-confidence that rubbed John the wrong way. He also disliked how Thomas seemed to scoff at Alex’s entire being. John felt weirdly protective over the guy he himself had punched only the other day.  
 _I had my reasons. What does this Jefferson have?_  
Apart from a bad sense of humour, an inflated ego and an odd bouncy quality about the way he moved, John couldn’t think of anything.   
_The prick was so distracting, though, that I completely forgot to ask Alex if he was okay with food now._ _I better text him._

**John -** **:** hey Alex. Sorry this is out of the blue. Just wanted to know. You okay w food now?  
 **A lion by any other mane:** I’m fine.  
 **John - :** you sure? nice screen name btw hahah  
 **A lion by any other mane:** Yes, I’m fine. And Laf set it to that… no idea how to change it. 

John felt unsure as to what to do next. Alex’s tone didn’t feel particularly inviting to him, but the boy was pretty guarded about many things, so perhaps that wasn’t so surprising. He wanted to crack through this shell, though. Maybe text wasn’t the best way, but face to face hadn’t worked out either.

**John - :** nice. This is p random but can I call you? 

A few moments passed. John shrugged, tossing his phone to the side and grabbing a sketchbook. He had no idea that he had just made the heart of a boy miles away race so fast it just about sprinted off into space. 

He began to draw, putting pencil to paper. He liked drawing nature. Plants, animals, they fascinated him. His hand pushed and pulled across the paper until the outline of a bird had taken shape. He started off with a basic shape, erasing and replacing elements here and there until they were more species-specific. He was about to go ahead with the first area of colour when his phone buzzed again.

**A lion by any other mane:** Is there any chance I could drop by, actually? 

-

Therapy. That had been Martha’s suggestion when George had voiced his concerns. He frowned. He knew she wasn’t technically being unreasonable, but it was hard to feel that way at the moment. He’d felt so sure that he had been close to unearthing some terrible secret just hours before. Could that feeling really be chalked up to his anxiety playing up again? He felt like he’d had such rational reasoning, but it was beyond his grasp now. Martha had soothed, understood, but not given in. He was ashamed to admit he’d lost his temper with her, raising his voice. Driving his foster son from the house, surely, because the boy had suddenly had a friend to meet up with. At least Lafayette still seemed oblivious to it all, listening to music in his room and reading. George cursed himself. Did Alex’s departure mean that he had been right to suspect something earlier? Or did it simply mean that he was the one doing the damage with his _damned_ paranoia? He took a deep breath. Martha was gone now, off to pick up her hormones. George had trouble thinking clearly, second-guessing himself at every turn, but one thing he did feel certain about was that he had something to make up for with Martha. With a last deep breath and a quick shake of his head, as if to clear it of cobwebs or liquid, George picked up a coat and walked outside. 

The wind was fierce, but not unpleasant. George walked until he got to a small field filled with flowers. He picked a lovely bouquet, careful to pick different colours and styles and only healthy-looking flowers. When he had a nice arrangement of purples, yellows, oranges and reds, he turned back to the house. The wind was making clouds gather and a few drops of rain had started to fall, so he turned up his coat and quickened his pace. Once inside, he cut the flowers diagonally at the stem and put them in a blue-white patterned vase in the middle of the dining table. Then he walked over to the fridge and started to select ingredients for a meal. He wasn’t the world’s best cook, but he’d learned enough from Martha to hold his own in a kitchen. He lingered over the ingredients for a while, doubting, but decided on a simple vegetarian pasta, since they didn’t have any meat on hand. Cutting up the eggplant and mushrooms made him feel productive and calm and by the time he’d gotten around to the onions, he had made a decision. He was going to listen to his _beautiful, remarkable, incredible wife_ and go to therapy. He didn’t feel entirely secure about Alex’s past yet, but he realised that confronting him in this state of mind would not make anything better.  
 _Alex is safe now and if I want to keep it that way, I need to get myself together._

-

Halfway to the bus stop, Alex was already regretting his decision. He’d wanted to get out of the Washington house, yes, the voice of a man’s shout making him unsure what was beating harder, his heart or the fists of his memory, but wouldn’t he have been better off making an excuse? He liked John, but he preferred to be in a sharper mind when meeting up with people.  
 _I should’ve asked Laf to come. That would’ve been safer. And nicer._  
But for reasons Alex didn’t much care to inspect up close, he wanted to be alone with John for a while.  
 _It’s fine. If I can’t handle myself, I’ll just make up an excuse to leave._  
As Alex calmed himself down, a wonderfully helpful melody popped into his head. He couldn’t remember what it was, but it did the trick, because by the time he reached John’s house he felt calm enough to ring the doorbell. As he rung it, he shuddered from the wind that had steadily grown in force. It made him uneasy, but he didn’t have much time to think about it, because he could hear hasty footsteps and a moment later, the door in front of him swung open.  
“Hey Alex, come in.”  
He stepped aside so Alex could enter. The boy waited outside for a moment longer, though, and asked, “Is your father home?”  
“Nope, just us.” John answered.  
It seemed curious to him that he’d only asked about his father, because he couldn’t remember telling Alex his mother wasn't around, but he shrugged it off and beckoned the other boy to come in once again. This time, Alex stepped over the threshold with only the slightest hint of doubt. John was leading the way through the hallway and into the living room. The walls were mostly bare, except for some official-looking certificates. The furniture looked utilitarian, but still expensive somehow. John gestured towards the large, leather couch.  
“Take a seat, if you want to. Want anything to drink?”  
Alex shook his head.  
“Alright.”John sat down beside Alex, who had taken up about a centimetre of the very corner of the couch, where he sat balancing.  
“You okay?”  
“What? I’m fine.” Alex answered, sounding jumpy.  
“Is that your new thing? Saying you’re fine, but acting as jumpy as a kangaroo?” He’d meant it as a joke, but looking at Alex, he wasn’t sure if it landed right.  
“Sorry, never mind. That was just a bad joke. I don’t mind how you act, okay?”  
Alex relaxed the tiniest bit.  
“So, why’d you wanna come over?”  
The hard-won inch of relaxation was gone again, just like that. John wanted to hit himself across the head.  
“I’m really glad you did, whatever your reasons are! Glad you don’t hold the punching incident against me.”  
A small chuckle came from the tense boy at the edge of the couch. “Who says I’m not here for revenge?”  
 _Thank god_ , John thought to himself, _he can still joke around. He looks pretty rough, so I was getting kind of scared that something had happened…_  
“Okay okay fair enough. Wanna punch me?”  
A huff of air from Alex, somewhere between a laugh and a cough. “I wouldn’t dare.”  
His voice was a bit strained and the look in his eyes said he wanted to say more, but he didn’t.  
“Joking aside though, you don’t look so good, man. You haven't all day, but I didn't want to ask you about it in front of the magenta bouncy ball.”  
Alex studied his hands for an extended period of time.  
“Just… drama at the house.”  
It didn’t escape John’s notice that he said ‘the house’ and not ‘home’. It made him feel a bit sad.  
“Ah, I understand. Wanna talk about it?”  
“Not really, if that’s okay.” Alex’s gaze had drifted to the ground now.  
“Sure, sure.”  
John wasn’t sure what else to say or do to help his friend. It felt odd to be sitting there, just the two of them, when they technically hardly knew each other. But he couldn’t deny the energy between them and since Alex himself suggested that he’d come, John figured he couldn’t, either.  
“Hey, wanna see something?”Alex looked up at that.“Uh, sure.”  
“One sec.”  
John left the room and a little while later he reentered with his sketch book tucked under his arm. He sat down next to Alex, who was slowly starting to occupy more space on the couch _(thank god)_ and opened the book to the first page. It held a drawing of a bamboo stalk, realistically rendered. Alex unintentionally inched closer to get a better look. The drawing filled him with an unexpected memory and before he could stop himself, he blurted out, “did your mom draw that?”  
As soon as the words left his mouth, he regretted them. It was an odd thing to spring on someone out of the blue. Just because his mother used to draw, didn't mean that everyone’s mother drew.  
 _And I already asked about his dad being home, too. He probably thinks I’m some kind of weird parent-stalker now._  
To his surprise, though, John blushed.  
“No, I did.”  
Alex’s jaw dropped.  
“Holy shit. Dude, this is amazing!”  
John’s blush deepened. He couldn’t get himself to respond to the compliment, so he changed the topic instead.  
“You sound more like Herc when you’re excited, did you know that?”  
Alex simply nodded, still transfixed by the picture, emotion in his eyes.  
“Can I turn the page?”  
John’s turn to nod. Alex turned the page and was met with several drawings of a bird of paradise in various poses. He kept on turning pages and gaping at all of the images in amazement and with a constricted feeling of moments lost in his chest. They passed a hedgehog, several species of turtle and some fish before Alex realised, to his horror, that tears were escaping his eyes. He tried to wipe them away discreetly, but this only drew John’s attention to his face. John’s eyes widened when he realised his friend was crying.  
“Shit, man, I’m sorry, did I do something? Are you okay?”  
Alex felt himself burning up with shame, which made it even harder to stop the tears and suddenly, he couldn’t anymore. He wasn’t sure what on earth was possessing him to behave this way, but he couldn’t hide from this kind boy next to him. An audible sob escaped his lips and he went limp, exhausted with the effort of everything. He hung against the back of the sofa, sobs wrecking him, covering his face with his hands. John sat stunned for a moment longer, shocked by this extreme shift, and then he put a tentative hand on Alex’s shoulder. When the crying boy didn’t move away, he started to rub soothing circles along his back, willing Alex’s breath to slow a bit.  
“It’s okay… it’s okay Alex…” he kept on whispering.  
After a few minutes, Alex calmed down a bit. The sobs slowed, then stopped. Half an hour later, even the silent tears had stopped coming.  
“I’m sorry,” Alex whispered.  
“What? No, no need. I’m sorry I upset you. How can I help you?”  
John’s hand was still circling Alex’s back and Alex couldn’t help but think of how utterly absurd it was that this was happening and he was letting it happen, even though he was never this vulnerable with anyone, not even Hercules. Not if he wasn’t having a panic attack, which always forced his hand. But he wasn’t having a panic attack, and yet he’d just opened the floodgates in front of a guy he’d known for a whopping two days. He felt pretty stupid, but the part of him that somehow couldn’t close off from this boy took the reins once more.  
“Your drawings just… reminded me of my mother, to be honest.”  
This took John by surprise.  
“You mean your foster mother?”  
Alex shook his head.  
“Martha is amazing, but I don’t see her… well, it doesn’t matter. They reminded me of my biological mom.”  
John wondered how his mother had lost custody of Alex, but it felt rude to ask. And anyway, he didn’t want to push his luck now that this _strange but amazing_ boy was actually opening up.  
Alex continued.“Your mom must be proud of them. Mine always was when I drew. She liked to draw herself, you see.”  
“My mom is dead.” John answered, more dryly than intended, but what else could he say? He was expecting things to get awkward right about then, with misplaced sympathy and weird guilt from the other person, but Alex nodded knowingly.  
“Mine too. That’s why I kind of went off like that. Sorry.”  
John nodded, too.“I get it. Some days I hardly think about her at all, and other days I find an old shoe of hers and sob over that for an hour.”  
They both felt more relaxed after that.  
“I think I’ll go for that drink after all, seeing as I just dehydrated myself.”

-

George was about half-way through cooking dinner when he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. He left the pasta dough to rest for a while as he dug it out. He had one new message.

**A lion by any other mane:** Ignore the screen name. Can John come over for dinner?

\- 

When Martha got back, she was greeted by an apologetic husband who was fidgeting with the sleeve of his sweater.  
“Hey honey, how was your trip?”  
“Fine, George.” She sounded a bit on edge. _  
Fair enough._  
“There’s a surprise in the kitchen.”  
Martha’s eyebrows shot up.  
“An apology-meal?”  
“And flowers!”  
Martha’s iciness melted away.  
“That’s sweet, honey, thank you.”  
She smiled warmly at him.  
“And that’s not all. Alex brought a friend.” George’s eyes were twinkling as he said this.  
“Already? That’s amazing!” She kissed him and they were both beaming, relieved that their dispute had been laid to rest and proud that their foster son was making such strides. They entered the kitchen hand in hand, where the three boys were already seated at a fully-made table. “Oh, this is just lovely!” Martha exclaimed. She walked up to John first, holding out her hand. “I’m Martha. You must be Alex’s friend.”Before John even had the chance to answer, Lafayette jumped in, saying, “and mine!”, which got a laugh from everyone, including the Frenchman himself.

\- 

The meal had been pleasant and, for the most part, easy-going (apart from when George asked how Alex had come to the idea of inviting John over for dinner and Alex froze up because he thought he’d done something wrong, so John jumped in with an explanation of “we were bonding over our dead moms” and Martha almost choked on her pasta sauce, while Lafayette just pouted and said “but I have a dead mom too!”). John, it turned out, was a vegetarian, so George felt very grateful that they'd forgotten to get meat the last time they went grocery shopping. John left shortly afterwards and Martha suggested they retreat to the living room, where she brought them some tea before sitting down herself, too. “Thank you all for that lovely evening and the great company,” she began, “but I think we do also need to talk about some more serious stuff, as family.”  
She winced at here own slip as soon as it was out, but Alex showed no signs of discomfort at the word, so she continued.  
“We all know George had a bit of a strong reaction to the discussion this morning.”  
Alex looked down.  
“I want you boys to know that you can still tell us both whatever is on your mind. Subtlety can be… practical, but I don’t want you all to feel like you need to sensor yourself here.”  
Still, Alex wasn’t looking up. George decided to take over.  
“Alex, what you told me was valid. You weren’t the kindest about it, I won’t lie, but that doesn’t matter right now. I crossed your boundaries and I’m very sorry.”  
Alex met George’s eyes. He could see nothing but kindness and sincerity there and the regret that had seemed so unsuited to him that morning suddenly didn’t feel as wrong on Alex anymore.  
 _But I’m not apologising. I’m not showing him weakness._  
“I also want both of you to know what, exactly, happened.” George continued. “I had an anxiety attack. I’ve had problems with those before, but I was helped greatly by a therapist back then. I will be seeing him again.”  
Lafayette nodded solemnly. “That is very good, papa. I am proud of you.”  
“Thank you, son.”  
All Alex did was stare. He knew it was rude, but he couldn’t help himself.  
 _He’s talking about this like it’s such a normal thing._  
He felt a sting of jealousy and tried to suppress it.  
 _I wish I could ask for help like that. But it’s not safe._

-

**Herc M.:** yoo revolutionary set!  
 **Man of Many Names:** Hello mes amis!  
 **John - :** anyone gonna explain this chat name to me or?  
 **Herc M.:** greatness doesn’t need an explanation  
 **A lion by any other mane:** You sound like Laf.  
 **Man of Many Names:** You say that as if it’s a bad thing :(.  
 **John - :** and you said you have a dead mom like it’s a good thing tonight ;D.  
 **Herc M.:** that’s kinda wild  
 **Herc M.:** y’all r gonna tell me all about that tmrrw right  
 **Herc M.:** right??  
 **A lion by any other mane:** Yes, don’t worry about it Herc.  
 **Herc M.:** knew you’d come through for me lex. but i’m about to conk out, just wanted to let you guys know that my boss is looking for more staff. so if anyone needs some $$$…  
 **A lion by any other mane:** How do I apply?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> quick note to avoid confusion: in the texting bit, Herc's screen name isn't Hunkules at the moment because we're seeing it from Alex's point of view, and he doesn't have Herc's contact saved like that.


End file.
